


Finding Religion

by elm1939



Category: Gone With the Wind - All Media Types, Gone With the Wind - Margaret Mitchell
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:11:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6007396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elm1939/pseuds/elm1939
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sunny-funny work based on the question of what it might be like if Pittypat Hamilton happened to move in with the Butlers.  Not to be taken too seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Religion

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! (I had fun images to break the sections up, but you can't see them here - boo! But if you want to see them, you'll have to join the yahoo group). Listed with mature content, though it's only implied.

_Finding Religion_

 

 

No one who had ever known Rhett and Scarlett Butler would have used the term _religious_ to describe them, but for a very brief period, Sarah Jane Hamilton suspected they were two of the most devout followers of the faith.   

 

________________________________________

 

It had been late April when the lives of several Hamilton and Wilkes clan members had been disrupted and quickly altered. And poor Pittypat Hamilton had suffered the most.

Oh, what a mess that India Wilkes had made by her shocking accusations!

Ashley Wilkes and Scarlett Butler? It couldn’t be. There had to have been a mistake, and yet India stood her ground on her moral convictions, despite the fact that both Melanie Wilkes and Rhett Butler had stood by their spouses. And surely Rhett Butler would have shot Ashley had it been true; though, he had left town shortly thereafter. Perhaps he did not support his wife as much as everyone thought he had in the immediate aftermath.

Everyone, it seemed, had to make a choice in this matter. Melanie chose to believe Ashley. Captain Butler seemed to have chosen Scarlett’s side (or had he?). And every person in town had to decide if they were to side with Melanie and Scarlett or if they were to support India Wilkes. Inevitably, this choice had to fall on Pittypat Hamilton’s shoulders as well.

She was expected to either maintain her alliance with Melanie, her niece, the girl she had raised, or choose to support India, her niece’s sister-in-law, Pittypat’s current companion. The choice was necessary, for Melanie declared that anyone who received India Wilkes was no friend of hers. Well, Pittypat had not only received India, she also housed her, which might possibly be the worst of crimes. The choice between Melanie and India was not as simple as one might have thought it would have been. Any unresolved obstacle was the greatest of inconveniences for Sarah Jane Hamilton and she wanted no part of it.

Throughout Pittypat’s life, all she had ever wanted was to live comfortably in the companionship and love of her relatives. Had she been asking for too much out of life these last seventy years? In reality, both Melanie and India had ties to her by blood, but there was only one woman that she had admired and loved with her whole heart, nearly as much as she loved herself, and that was Melanie Hamilton Wilkes. The choice was easy; the execution of it was not. How could she bear such a predicament? Must her entire life be disrupted by a silly accusation of infidelity that did not involve her in the least?

If she sided with Melanie, India would have to leave. And then what would she, Pitty, do? Living alone was out of the question for then she would have to worry herself with decisions, seek out security, and have only Cookie and Uncle Peter to keep her company. Would she have to get a stranger to live with her? No, that didn’t sound like a suitable solution at all. Or, could she possibly close up her house and go live in one of the most comfortable of homes of Atlanta with Scarlett a little further south on Peachtree Street? She had a vague sense that Captain Butler would not care for this. If she couldn’t live with Scarlett, she would have to live in the small cubbyhole that was Beau’s nursery at Melanie’s home and she felt that her nerves could not bear being so cooped up in that little house, always so full of strangers. At least that nasty old man, Archie, had been sent packing. Maybe Melly had learned her lesson after that one.

Soon after Ashley Wilkes’ birthday celebration, Pittypat called on her niece to explain her dilemma and to beg for assistance in finding a suitable solution. Of course, if Melanie didn’t want to have anything to do with India Wilkes anymore, then she, Pittypat, couldn’t either. But what could she do? Where would she live? When Melanie invited her to stay with them if she feared living alone in the home directly behind theirs, Pittypat immediately brought up her idea of staying with Scarlett, for she had so much more room in her spacious house.

“Why, they wouldn’t even know that I was around. I really don’t want to get in anyone’s way, and of course, I would here.”

“Well, then, you should ask her,” was Melanie’s only reply, which was not at all to Pittypat’s liking. She had hoped that Melanie would have asked Scarlett on her behalf, but it was clear that she had no intention of assisting. Pittypat was not quite ready to broach the subject with Scarlett Butler and so she took no further action for the time being, hoping everything would be settled as if by magic. Maybe Melanie would even forgive India before anything needed to change; Pittypat could only hope.

Alas, it was false hope.

Melanie had quickly grown frustrated with her aunt over the weeks that followed as Pittypat continued to house India Wilkes under her roof, though each time Pitty called, she promised Melanie that she was working something out to eventually cut ties with the traitorous woman, even though she had not really had a plan, whatsoever. But Melanie’s patience was running thin. She didn’t want to hear her aunt’s pleas anymore. She refused to return her aunt’s calls. And now Pittypat was growing more and more desperate. What a misery it was to live in limbo like this. Couldn’t someone come up with a solution for her? Her poor nerves!

On a pleasant, sunny day in mid-June, when no one could possibly be in a bad mood, Pittypat finagled her way into Melanie’s sitting room to join her niece and Scarlett Butler for tea. This might be her last chance to make a plea, for soon, Melanie was sure to keep the door closed to her permanently.

Well, unfortunately, neither woman had seemed to be in the best of moods. Melanie’s distance was understandable given the current situation. And Scarlett had seemed more irritated that day than Pitty had seen in some time, though it was a rather familiar rage that often churned just beneath the surface of her niece-in-law. Though, Pitty felt that the crossness was not only caused by her own presence in the room but by something else, something more personal.

Since Captain Butler and Bonnie’s departure, conversation had generally veered away from the subject of Scarlett’s husband and youngest child, Melanie thinking that if Scarlett had wanted to say anything about them, she would have offered the information about their wherabouts. But, for whatever reason, Melanie had mentioned Bonnie’s name that afternoon during Pittypat’s visit, causing Scarlett to immediately announce that her daughter had been in Charleston visiting her Butler grandmother. She also revealed that she’d just received a letter from her Aunt Pauline in Charleston. Apparently, Bonnie had been introduced to her Robillard great aunts, as well.

Now that the darling Bonnie Butler had been the subject of discussion–which never put anyone in a displeased mood–Pittypat knew this was the best opportunity she was sure to have and made one more not-so-subtle plea:

“My darling dears. You know how I love you both. It has been so difficult for me to continue living with… _her_ , but where else do I have to go? I simply can’t live alone. Melly, I know you don’t have the space for me here. If Scarlett…well, oh, I’m sure you don’t have a room to spare,” Pittypat started, dropping her eyes to her lap like a sad child. “But if only I could stay with you, I should be able to break ties with the woman who has done you both a terrible wrong.”

She was certain that despite her attempt, Scarlett would refuse to offer her refuge, but Pitty had to try. This was her only hope for secure comfort. She’d held her breath, while staring at her lap, her white curls caressing her temples, putting all her expectations in the ill-tempered woman to her right.

Then, Scarlett spoke, and a most unexpected response fell from her mouth.

“Well, why not?” Scarlett had conceded glumly, to Pittypat’s utter surprise. No, Scarlett hadn’t welcomed her with open arms, but she had miraculously welcomed her, nonetheless. “If you dismiss India Wilkes from your home, you’re more than welcome to take up residence in mine.” Then Pittypat noticed that Scarlett’s green eyes began to sparkle with a bold color that neither woman had seen all morning, or for months for that matter. “Your presence will _please_ Rhett very much, I assure you.”

For, of course, Rhett would return. He had to. He surely wouldn’t separate Bonnie from her mother for all eternity? He wouldn’t take her to Persia or Egypt. They were just on a pleasant visit to Mrs. Butler’s in Charleston, he playing the perfect father and husband. And a perfect father and husband would not keep a child from her mother. No, of course not.

And when he returned, what surprises awaited the devil!

________________________________________

By late July, Rhett and Bonnie were home again without warning.

Pittypat, needle working in her bedroom, thought she had heard a series of loud thumps coming from the front hall through the small crack in her door. Then, she heard a young child’s voice cry “Mother!”

“Oh, dear! They’re home,” Pittypat thought upon hearing Bonnie’s loud shout. “Why hasn’t Scarlett warned me?”

 

Bonnie was, of course, the most darling of the children, but also the most boisterous. What might she do to Pittypat’s nerves? Living with Wade and Ella had been less challenging than she thought it would have been since moving into this grand home nearly a month ago, but what of Bonnie? Pittypat hadn’t faced that test yet. Wade was fairly placid, much like his father, dear Charlie. And as for Ella? That child was a boundless fount of questions and Pittypat soon learned to steer clear of her, for when she started an interaction with the girl, she was lucky if she could make an escape from Ella Kennedy’s company after thirty minutes. My, she could make your head spin! At least the children did not bother her when she sequestered herself in her bedroom. But would Bonnie be wise enough to leave her alone or would Pittypat be startled at the fists of a child pounding on her bedroom door, or worse yet, barging into her room without proper welcome? Her poor heart and nerves! If anyone were to test them, it would be the rambunctious Bonnie Butler. Pittypat was sure of it.

Pittypat peeked outside her door, catching sight of the back of Scarlett as she flew down the hall to the top of the stairs, Scarlett’s dressing gown swaying like a bell about her legs. Where had that liveliness come from? Scarlett had been nothing but sluggish since Pittypat had moved in.

“Gran’ma gave him to me,” Bonnie cried excitedly.

Pittypat wondered what this ‘him’ was and tiptoed toward the stairs, conscious of the fact that Captain Butler was probably right behind the little girl. How should he react to seeing her so at home in _his_ home? Surely, Scarlett had warned him.

“Though, she always seems to forget to warn me about anything,” Pittypat pondered as she watched Scarlett sweep Bonnie up in her arms and kiss her, a small kitten being crushed between the two of them. So, that was the ‘him’, Pittypat decided. Hopefully, ‘he’ would stay clear of her stitching basket. Old Tom ignored it, but imagine the mess a kitten could make! Oh, all the tangled thread! Must she keep it under lock and key?

Poor, dear Scarlett had so missed her black-haired daughter. Pittypat had observed her with the older children, but there was a distance, a disconnect there that was absent in this very moment with Scarlett’s youngest; mother and daughter sharing equal love and admiration. Mother holding her child so tenderly as if she never wanted to let her go.

It wasn’t long before Scarlett directed her attention over her daughter’s head, and Pittypat knew the figure Scarlett’s eyes were fixed upon: Captain Butler. Pitty couldn’t see the eager light in Scarlett’s eyes, but Scarlett’s posture shifted, lengthening her spine and expanding her chest slightly as if her heart was making an attempt to escape. Scarlett had clearly missed her husband just as much as she had her daughter. So many had said that the Butler marriage was a farce, a joke that Scarlett and Rhett had played on the world, and especially on Atlanta. But in this moment, Pittypat knew it was real and genuine, at least on Scarlett’s part.

“Where’s Mammy?” asked Bonnie, soon wriggling in Scarlett’s grasp.

“You are looking pale, Mrs. Butler. Is there a rouge shortage?” spoke the deep voice of Rhett Butler, which grew louder as he approached the landing.

“Oh, dear!” Pittypat exclaimed loudly, hand to chest, as Mammy passed her in the hall, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Her nerves, first frayed because of Captain Butler’s nearing presence, now pulsated from the unexpected surprise brought by Mammy. Pitty patted her skirt pocket to make sure her smelling salts were present…just in case.

All eyes were now on the new houseguest as she reluctantly approached the top of the staircase, her white curls shaking beneath a net. When Mammy took Bonnie’s hand and led her away toward the nursery, Bonnie craned her neck, continuing to stare at the strange figure in her house. “’S-that Miss Pitty? What she here for? Mammy, why she…?” continued the series of questions, now imitating her older sister’s tendencies, which only died away as the large woman and little girl entered the nursery.

“Captain Butler. Welcome home,” Pittypat bravely spoke, breaking the silence in the hall. She shuddered at his expression. It signaled what she had feared; Scarlett hadn’t written to him about this arrangement. Even she, petite Pittypat, could have knocked him over with a feather. He was as immobile as a marble statue; the figure of a man frozen in time.

Before willing to speak, he flashed a glance at Scarlett, waiting for an explanation to this odd visit. It was only a visit, wasn’t it?

As if remembering something she had almost forgotten in this heartwarming moment, Scarlett’s lips nearly fell into a devilish grin, though she suppressed it enough that her teeth remained hidden. Her eyes revealed the rest.

“I was sure you wouldn’t mind,” Scarlett simply stated. “Since you’ve been away and have been rather _unreachable_ , I took it upon myself to invite Aunt Pitty to live here with us. For now that India has gone back to Macon–oh, I suppose you didn’t know, since you have been so _absent_ –well, in any case, Aunt Pitty needed to be with family and we have plenty of rooms. I knew you would have no objections,” Scarlett said in a sticky sweet tone. She walked up to Pittypat, looping her arm through her aunt’s. “She really has been such nice company since she joined the household. With just me, Wade, and Ella…why it seemed so lonely.” Scarlett held Pittypat in such a tight grip that Pitty was now sure of Scarlett’s affections for her. Why would Scarlett have invited her into her home if she did not love her dearly like she would love a true aunt? It had not always seemed that Scarlett’s fondness was so strong, but how could Pitty doubt it in this moment? She had Scarlett to defend her should Captain Butler protest the arrangement.

It took another moment or two for Rhett to process this most unexpected information, so Scarlett spoke once more.

“Aunt Pitty has been with us for almost a month, now. I think it was… Yes. She came to us just after I had received a letter from Aunt Pauline, sending praise about her little great niece. It was so kind of you to visit with my aunts while in Charleston and catch them up on my life. Really, too kind.”

Pittypat couldn’t help but stare at Scarlett with a scrunched up face, revealing wrinkles that were amazingly absent when her baby face was at rest. Was this the same Scarlett that had lived with her during the war years and throughout a marriage to Frank Kennedy? Never before had Scarlett sounded so amiable. Perhaps Captain Butler had brought out a different side of Scarlett since their marriage?

Or could it have been the result of the pregnancy? Everyone in town had already heard the rumors of Scarlett’s pregnancy. It had been the least well-kept secret of them all, though Scarlett had never once confirmed it or mentioned it to Pittypat since she had moved in, nor to anyone for that matter. Pittypat didn’t think that even Melanie had been told. However, many-a-morning, Pitty had woken to the unfortunate sounds of Scarlett’s retching, a sure piece of evidence since Scarlett had hardly ever been sick unless she had also been pregnant. Of course, Pitty had never experienced a pregnancy herself, but she knew that women in that state sometimes gained new personalities during the ordeal. Though, as far as she could remember, Scarlett had grown into a much more irritable version of herself during her pregnancy with Ella Kennedy. And, yes, she often had fallen under weeping spells when frustrated, but she had never shown such a calm and grateful manner as she displayed in this moment. If Scarlett had been like this during her second pregnancy, Pittypat would have spent many more days of those nine months out of hiding.

Though not audible, Pittypat thought she might have caught Rhett silently chuckling to himself, his chest and shoulders subtly moving with a rhythm as his eyes locked with Scarlett’s now defiant ones. The slight grin that formed under his mustache was a good clue.

“Ah, well…my apologies for being such a poor host, Miss Pitty,” Rhett began with a burlesque bow, holding his Panama hat to his broad chest, all shock now sublimated into… What was it? Amusement? “I was not informed in advance that our household had grown in size, but you are very welcome…I’m sure.” His eyes, full of diversion, drifted to Scarlett’s during the conclusion of his statement.

Did he mean it? Pittypat wondered. Rhett Butler did have a tendency to say one thing when he probably meant just the opposite. She knew him well enough to know that. But, at least he did not seem very upset by her presence. If anything, it had brought a smile to his face, which had been absent up until this discovery.

He stepped up, his shadow looming over the two women, and took Pittypat’s free hand, bent over it, and kissed it with the normal charm that Pitty always found awkwardly irresistible. She tittered as she pulled her hand away.

“Oh, dear, Captain Butler. I do apologize for interrupting your homecoming. I shall return to my room immediately–to the needlework I have been neglecting. I thank you for your warm welcome. I really shouldn’t be a bother. As I’ve told Scarlett, you’ll hardly ever see me. You won’t even know that I’m here. Welcome home, Captain Butler,” she repeated, smiling nervously as she forcefully maneuvered her arm out of Scarlett’s tight grip.

Pittypat anxiously turned down the hall toward her room, leaving Scarlett and Rhett standing in the middle of the hall, their eyes fixed upon each other. As Pitty slipped into her room and closed the door, she hung by it a little longer as footsteps drew nearer. Then, she heard Rhett’s voice speak:

“Cutting off your nose to spite your face, are we, my pet?”

Unsure of Captain Butler’s reference, Pittypat pressed her ear to the door and waited for a clue from Scarlett’s response, but it never came. Pittypat had not been privy to the proud raised chin or the defiant expression that Scarlett had presented to her husband before turning into the nursery.

“Bonnie, baby!” Scarlett’s voice called, surprising Pittypat’s ear. “I’m so glad you’re home!”

Of course, Scarlett would want to immediately return to Bonnie. After all, she hadn’t seen her daughter in nearly three months, the poor dear. What a happy day for Scarlett now to have her family intact again. It was a very happy day for Pittypat as well, for Captain Butler had neither ordered her out of his house, nor threated her or Scarlett with murder. Yes, any day without such a threat was truly a blessed day.

 ________________________________________

Aside from mealtimes, Pittypat generally kept to herself. If she was to bother anyone, it was always Scarlett, for they were family, so of course Scarlett wouldn’t mind. No, of course she wouldn’t. And Pittypat was bound to get lonely at times. But, she had not crossed paths with Captain Butler much at all. Though a few days after his return, she received a good dose of the gentleman, catching a side of him that she had never witnessed before: that of a genuinely concerned and sober husband.

Thinking it safe with Wade in school and Prissy occupying Ella and Bonnie in the playroom, Pittypat had decided she could take her stitching to the sitting room to distance herself from the sometimes raucous girls in the upper hall and find a little quietude. Not long after she had settled onto the middle of the sofa to accommodate her voluminous skirts, Scarlett joined her. Instead of needlework, Scarlett had the duo of _Godey’s Lady’s Book_ and _Harper’s Weekly_ trapped under her right arm. Upon spotting Pittypat in the spacious room, Scarlett’s expression had soured, the space between her eyebrows narrowing and her lips nearly in a pout. Perhaps Scarlett had wanted the room all to herself? Pittypat had a small urge to give up her space for Scarlett and return to her room, but she had laid everything out just so and, frankly, she didn’t want to make the effort to gather everything up again after making so little progress on her project up to this point.

The two nodded to each other in acknowledgment and Scarlett took her place on the little settee closer to the unlit fireplace, laying her periodicals on the cushion next to her. A refreshing breeze reached Scarlett from an open window, teasing a few wisps of hair.

The poor woman looked so pale, so tired, thought Pittypat. Even Melanie hadn’t been able to get Scarlett out of the house these last few days for their normal calls and rides. Mammy must have urged Scarlett out of bed this late morning, ordering for her a change of air and scenery. Scarlett remained in her paisley dressing gown with threads of gold, her braided black hair loosely pinned up in a low chignon, the color in such a contrast against her white skin. It would be most effortless to return to bed should she need to. Pittypat watched as Scarlett laid a magazine across her lap and immediately opened it to the colored fashion plate, examining it with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

“Would you like me to ring for some tea or water or lemonade, honey?” Pittypat offered when she noticed Scarlett resting her temple against her knuckles as if her head was so heavy that she needed help holding it up. Poor dear. Scarlett drew in a deep breath as if to clear the fog from her mind and, while hesitant, nodded gratefully.

Almost simultaneously, Pittypat gave the bell pull a tug and footsteps approached the door. What quick service! Pittypat wondered if there was some magic to the Butlers’ up-to-date bell pulls, but she realized she had been mistaken when Captain Butler entered the room.

“Oh, my!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t even know you were about the house this morning, Captain Butler.”

“And I though _we_ were the ones to never know when _you_ were around,” Rhett commented in passing, referencing one of her oft-made declarations.

While his short remark sounded slightly rude, Pittypat wasn’t quite sure how she should receive it, for if he had meant it that way, surely he would have waited to view her reaction, and his only focus had been on Scarlett since he had entered the room.

“You’re not at the store?” he asked, taking long strides toward the settee. “You’re always at the store at this hour. I stopped by and Willie said you haven’t been in for three days. Is there someone you’re hiding from, my pet?” Rhett said, the slight tease masking his obvious concern.

Scarlett closed the cover of her magazine, swallowed, and scooted back in her seat as if bracing herself for something.

Pittypat had never seen Scarlett so unsure of herself as she had seemed ever since Captain Butler had returned. After the initial swell of love upon seeing him at his return, Scarlett had seemed timid and nervous as if she had a secret to keep and didn’t want her husband discovering the truth.

The rumors couldn’t have been true. Ashley Wilkes couldn’t have been the father of Scarlett’s baby. It was impossible. Pittypat had known the man since he had been a young boy and Ashley Wilkes would never sink so low. He may have had a flirtation with the young Scarlett O’Hara at one time, but what man hadn’t? He was a loyal and honorable gentleman and he would never have done such a thing to his beloved wife, Melanie.

Captain Butler, too, had seemed slightly nervous around his wife, and was less at ease with her than he had been in the past. He still joked and teased, though with a little less verve, and seemed to place the majority of his attention on his daughter, Bonnie, as if avoiding Scarlett.

Was the lumberyard office incident still hanging over them like a dark cloud? Surely all had been settled by now.

Even the normally unobservant Pittypat Hamilton could sense that the strength of the electricity, which had sparked between Rhett and Scarlett Butler since the very beginning, was still there, but there was something threatening that connection, something like an invisible brick wall being built up between husband and wife. This wall could surely impede that magnetic intensity. Though, might there be a new shift occurring in this moment? It appeared as if Captain Butler might be ready to put to an end that partition’s construction.

When Scarlett didn’t smile at Rhett’s joke, he continued more seriously, “You don’t look well. You haven’t looked well since Bonnie and I returned home. Have you seen Dr. Meade?”

“When?” Scarlett asked cryptically.

“What do you mean, when?” Rhett asked. Then, he turned to Pittypat, still positioned near the door, pondering whether she should stay or leave. So he had known she was still present. “Miss Pitty, has Dr. Meade been consulted yet? Surely you’ve noticed that my wife has lost all color, it appears, even to her eyes.”

They nearly looked gray this morning, not the vibrant green that he found so attractive.

“You were her guardian once. Have you not noticed that she’s not herself? How long has she been this way? I should think that if you are part of this household now, you should know that you have some responsibilities…”

Was Rhett Butler lecturing her on her lack of care for her dear niece? What did he think she could have possibly done for Scarlett that wasn’t already being tried? Scarlett, and probably Mammy, knew more about Scarlett’s condition than Pittypat did, and surely Dr. Meade had already been consulted. But, apparently, Captain Butler did not have full knowledge of the situation. If he had known, he would have found his wife’s state unfortunate, but normal. And he would have seen that she, Pittypat, had been trying to make her niece-by-marriage as comfortable as Scarlett would allow.

Why hadn’t Scarlett told Captain Butler about the baby, yet? Now, Pittypat was certain that she hadn’t. The only reason could be Ashley, but that was impossible.

“Rhett,” Scarlett protested, drawing his fervor from the shrinking and quivering Pittypat, much to Pitty’s relief. “Leave her be. Aunt Pitty’s been very good to me. Why, just now she was ringing for refreshment. She has been caring for me.”

“Is that all it is? A lack of refreshment?” Rhett continued, eyebrows raised. “You’ll have a glass of water and your color will return?” he said skeptically. “Since no one else here has been willing to do it, I’m sending for Dr. Meade.”

Rhett turned toward the door and Pittypat, fearful of the large man and the passion in his black eyes, cowered into the wall as if her figure, adorned in white, would be able to blend into the red wallpaper. She just knew he was blaming her for his wife’s ailments. Oh, what would he do to her?

Scarlett, arms at her sides, pressed the heels of her palms into the cushion and leaned forward.

“No,” she protested.

“No?” Rhett repeated, after slowly turning back in Scarlett’s direction.

“No. It’s– It’s not necessary,” she answered, her eyes focused on the carpet in front of her, her hands now restlessly wringing in her lap.

“Are you telling me that you’ve already consulted Dr. Meade?”

“Yes,” answered Scarlett while simultaneously nodding. Her eyes nervously flashed from her husband to Pittypat.

“When?”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing…wrong.”

Pittypat wondered why it seemed that Scarlett struggled to get that word out, as if there _was_ something wrong with being pregnant. Wasn’t it always blessed news? Her niece, Melanie, never would have snagged her tongue on that word.

“Nothing wrong?” Rhett questioned. “You’re white as a haunt.”

“I’d really prefer to not discuss this here…right now,” Scarlett said, looking beyond Rhett’s imposing figure to Pittypat near the door.

Rhett’s eyes followed hers and now they both were staring at the very attentive old woman. It took a moment for Scarlett’s meaning to register. If she was to inform Captain Butler that he was again going to be father, Scarlett didn’t need an audience. Pittypat’s anxiety was eased, realizing that Ashley Wilkes couldn’t be the father, for if he were, Scarlett would certainly want a witness when she told Captain Butler. She would want someone there to stop her husband from killing her once he learned the news.

Pittypat’s shoulders and chest fell with an exhale and she muttered, “Oh. I– Yes. Of course. I need to– Yes, there’s something I have to– If you’ll excuse me, Captain Butler. Scarlett.” She turned and nearly ran into Pork as he stood at the sitting room door. Pittypat shooed him away with her ever-present handkerchief. “I’ll tell you what I need out here,” she whispered, as if it was a secret. Turning back to the sitting room once more, she caught Captain Butler lightly lowering himself onto the cushion next to Scarlett, as if not to disturb the delicate figure of his wife. As much as Pitty wanted to observe what happened next, her manners and training returned to her. She pulled the doors closed, though she had the urge to place her ear against a panel for a moment before remembering Pork’s presence. “I rang to call for some tea for Scarlett–that lemon and ginger tea that she’s been drinking lately.”

“Yes’m,” answered Pork with a nod.

“Wait,” Pittypat said, following him a few steps. “I’m not sure how long they’ll be. You might want to wait until they’re finished. We ought not disturb them.”

“Yes’m,” Pork followed with another nod and wandered to the back of the house.

Pittypat turned back toward the sitting room, remembering what she had left behind.

“Oh, my sewing basket!” Now what did she have to distract her? She looked up to the second floor, recalling that the Kennedy and Butler girls were present. Should she visit with them? No, it wouldn’t do to get caught in Ella’s web of questions again or Bonnie’s boisterous running about the playroom. Bonnie’s constant circling made her dizzy. It was a shame that Wade Hampton was not at home, for then she might have sought him out to tell him more tales of his father, Charlie; Wade seemed to enjoy that. And she was glad for the opportunity to spend more time with her great nephew. Maybe she could send for Uncle Peter and he could take her to Melly’s for a while, though they had just visited when Melanie came to check on Scarlett today. Pittypat had a slight urge to burst back into the sitting room to claim the left-behind basket and see what progress the Butlers had made in their conversation, though she didn’t want to ruin anything. But, there was nothing wrong with a little compromise.

With the entrance hall empty, Pittypat reached for one of the brass door pulls and slid the door open just a crack. What nice, smooth pocket doors they had put into the mansion! They didn’t stick or make a sound when drawn. Putting one eye up to the small gap, Pittypat was relieved to see that Captain Butler had covered Scarlett’s hands with his own; they were closer together, not further apart.

“Are you–? Are you glad?” she heard Scarlett ask tentatively. There was a faint pink color in her cheeks that had been absent a few minutes ago.

“Why wouldn’t I be glad?” Rhett replied warmly. Even though Pittypat could only see the back of Captain Butler’s head, she knew that an encouraging smile had accompanied those words. Captain Butler could be sweet and sincere sometimes, she realized. It was such a pleasant discovery.

The corners of Scarlett’s lips automatically lifted though her head dropped slightly, perhaps weakening from relief, and Captain Butler swiftly drew her into his arms, petting her and sharing his strength with his wife now that she temporarily lacked some of her own.

Pittypat backed away from the door, suddenly embarrassed to be witnessing such an intimate and tender scene, and again noiselessly sealed the doors. She smiled. What a relief to not expect any violent explosions this afternoon. Her world would remain simple, untouched. Peace is what Sarah Jane Hamilton required and it seemed that whatever complicated business had been between Scarlett and Captain Butler had been patched up. Pittypat held her head up proudly, believing that she might have provided the thread to stitch the pair up, the thread that still remained in the sitting room, unavailable to her. Pittypat frowned and decided to climb the steps up to her bedroom. Her basket would need to be abandoned for the time being. A little nap was the only activity that sounded appealing, peaceful, and available to her right now, granted the children kept their voices down.

________________________________________

 

The difference hadn’t exactly been like night and day, but almost immediately after Scarlett and Captain Butler had had their talk, Scarlett regained some color to her cheeks and some brightness to her eyes as if she had been plagued not only by the pregnancy but by fear of the unknown. And now that the presumed secret was out, all Scarlett had to face was the inconvenience of the pregnancy.

Pittypat wondered if Scarlett had been irrationally fearful that Captain Butler would not like the news. She couldn’t understand why Scarlett would have been concerned, for everyone who had seen Captain Butler with Bonnie would have known that he would be overjoyed by this new blessing. And he indeed appeared to be delighted and immediately became very thoughtful of his wife’s comfort, relieving Pittypat of any duties she had assumed since moving into this home. Whenever she thought of procuring a beverage for Scarlett, Captain Butler would enter the room with a warm, freshly steeped cup of tea before Pittypat could even rise from her seat to ring for Pork. Often, Pittypat had assisted Scarlett up to her bedroom in the evening, but now it was Rhett’s arm that Scarlett held while ascending the staircase.

Though, as the days went by, Scarlett grew stronger, less pale, and the nausea that woke both Scarlett, and subsequently Pitty, each day seemed to have subsided. Melanie was even getting Scarlett out to the store and lumberyard again, and the three women were making afternoon calls together once more after the brief disruption.

After making the news known to her husband, it appeared as if Scarlett’s pregnancy was now officially available for public consumption…well, at least to a few select members of her family. Melanie might have known the truth longer than Scarlett had, herself, but she still acted surprised when Scarlett officially announced the good news: “Oh, Scarlett, how wonderful!”

“I would never have guessed it!” Pittypat lied.

A satisfied smile even formed on Scarlett’s lips at Melanie’s reaction. Pittypat couldn’t remember a time when Scarlett had smiled about Ella Kennedy’s impending arrival. Yes, Pittypat decided, each pregnancy must be different for a woman. What a terribly confusing mess to be plagued by each time! A woman would never know what to expect. It made Pittypat very glad that she had never needed to accept a marriage proposal. She had been blessed to avoid such extreme experiences.

At the same time that Scarlett informed the women of her pregnancy, she had stunned Pittypat by expressing her gratitude for the care she had received during the last month of Pittypat’s stay.

“Aunt Pitty, everything would have been so much more difficult had you not been here,” said Scarlett, obviously feeling uncharacteristically magnanimous that afternoon and forgetting that the woman had annoyed her more than had helped her over the last month.

The clueless Pittypat hadn’t noticed that Scarlett had slowly been remembering that fact ever since Rhett Butler’s return from Charleston.

In the evenings over the next few weeks, Pittypat had begun to catch discussions between Captain Butler and Scarlett in the room next to her guestroom, which happened to be Scarlett’s bedroom. However, she didn’t know that she, Pittypat, was sometimes the topic of conversation. The pair’s voices were so low that she could not make out the words, let alone a sentence, even by quietly pressing her ear against the wall. The one thing she could tell was that most of the conversations seemed amiable. Most everything had seemed fairly amiable between the couple since that day in the sitting room.

 

\-----------------------------   

 

“I didn’t know your memory was so strong, my dear.”

“Hmm?”

“In relation to my thoughts about cohabitating with Miss Pitty.”

“Oh, that,” Scarlett giggled. “Hadn’t you said you _wished_ to experience her vaporings three times a day?”

“You’re missing a few words there.”

“Oh, am I? Hmm…?”

“I know you can’t stand living with her, either.”

“I’m stronger than you think.”

“That you are, my pet,” Rhett agreed. “That was a pretty mean trick to pull on me.”

“It’s nothing less than you deserved for deserting me and ruining my reputation with my aunts–the ungrateful old– Well, you’re the cause of Aunt Pauline’s last unbearable lecture. You and I are even now.”

“And how long is this to go on? For I think I’ll be more likely to choose to end my own life before your Aunt Pitty decides to depart.”

“Oh, I’ll come up with something. You know how she irritates me, but I can endure it a little longer. And she has been taking care of me in her own way. I can’t just throw her out after she’s been so nice. Besides, you haven’t served your full punishment yet.”

“I might not survive the sentence.”

 

\-----------------------------   

    

It was strange to hear Captain Butler’s muted voice coming from that room.

Since taking up residence in the Peachtree mansion, Pittypat had learned that the rumors were true. Captain Butler’s bedroom was indeed across the hall from Scarlett’s, and Bonnie slept there, too, in her little bed. Mr. and Mrs. Butler slept separately, just as Melanie and Ashley Wilkes practiced, though in this case, it had obviously not been for the purpose of remaining childless. (Pittypat was terribly curious about the reason, though of course, she could never ask.)

After she had retired for bed, Pittypat would often hear Captain Butler’s voice coming from the other side of the wall. But after a fixed amount of time had passed, after whatever conversation had ended, he would depart and close Scarlett’s door behind him, crossing the hall to spend the night in his own room, leaving Scarlett to hers. They had not shared a room since his return, nor before his departure, it seemed.

But then one night, Pittypat never heard Captain Butler close Scarlett’s door a second time…at least not for several hours. He didn’t cross the hall until nearly two in the morning. Captain Butler must have unintentionally fallen asleep in Scarlett’s bedroom. It had been strange, almost sudden, for there had been leisure, muffled voices from the other side of Pitty’s wall and then nothing. It was almost as if Scarlett and Captain Butler had been in mid-conversation when a deep crevice opened beneath their feet because their voices disappeared in an instant.

And then the next night, after Captain Butler had entered the room and Scarlett’s door closed, only a few words were exchanged before silence fell. After some time passed, a shout pierced through the wall. Though Pittypat hadn’t heard the impact, it sounded as if Scarlett had stubbed her toe on the leg of a table. Scarlett continued to vocalize as the pain slowly subsided.

“She really should light a lamp if she’s going to be wandering around in the dark,” Pittypat muttered to herself with concern. “She’ll hurt herself or the baby. I really ought to remind her, though Captain Butler should be wise enough to protect his wife. He is in the room, isn’t he?” She hadn’t heard him make his exit. “He should fetch her some ice. Or maybe I should send Prissy for some…? No, I’d hate for Scarlett to think I was spying on her. No, I mustn’t say anything, but she really ought to be more careful.”

Whenever she saw the duo together after this incident, Pittypat was more certain than ever that Captain Butler was dedicatedly looking out for Scarlett. His eyes never seemed to leave his wife and Scarlett would return his attention with bashful smiles. Yes, it turned out that Captain Butler was a very watchful and protective husband. Pittypat had learned much about the man since living with him. He really was much more warm and doting than she had ever imagined. Scarlett, it turned out, had made the right decision when everyone else–including Mrs. Merriwether, on Pittypat’s behalf–was warning her not to marry the man. Scarlett was a lucky woman to have such an attentive husband.

And, no, the Butler marriage wasn’t a joke that had been played on Atlanta; Pittypat was sure of that now.

One morning after breakfast, Pittypat had wandered into the sitting room instead of returning to her bedroom, as was her ritual, and caught Captain Butler and Scarlett in an embrace. She thought Captain Butler had already left for the bank, but he must have lingered for a little longer to have a private moment with Scarlett. Or had it been Scarlett that had detained her husband? This kiss hadn’t been the quiet, chaste sort that Pittypat was accustomed to witnessing–not that she was accustomed to regular displays of marital affection. Captain Butler had crushed Scarlett against him and Scarlett’s fingers had completely disheveled Captain Butler’s black hair. Was Captain Butler mauling the poor woman? It didn’t appear as if Scarlett was resisting; she was shockingly pulling her husband closer. Pittypat should have just silently backed out of the room, though a sound of surprise unconsciously escaped her lips, and the panting pair quickly turned their heads in her direction. Before escaping the room with an embarrassed, mumbling apology, Pittypat read the joint irritation on Scarlett and Captain Butler’s faces. By the time Pitty reached the upper hall the giggling pair had approached the front door and Scarlett was smoothing Rhett’s hair with her fingers as he straightened his cravat with the assistance of a mirror. Pittypat caught one more embrace, this time much more restrained, before turning to her room, hoping neither spotted her spying once more.

She had learned so much more about the Butlers’ relationship in the last four weeks than she had in all the previous years of knowing them. While she knew it would be wrong to gossip, it still inflated her ego to know that she knew things that her friends only thought they knew. There was so much she could confirm and disabuse now. And oh, how she loved gossiping! It was her favorite pastime. Certain things were bound to sneak out of her mouth when she made her calls without an accompanying Scarlett or Melanie, though she tried as best as a good Miss Sarah Jane Hamilton could to keep her new home’s secrets. It wouldn’t be quite worth it to gamble away her chances at remaining in this comfortable dwelling. She didn’t think Captain Butler would like a gossip living underneath his roof. It wasn’t easy, but somehow she remained fairly silent on the subject of her hosts up to this point. Though, if she hadn’t been quite so successful at keeping her thoughts to herself amongst her matronly friends, she may have had some very quick answers to lingering questions regarding Scarlett and Captain Butler’s odd behavior. Instead, she was left to wonder and speculate and make conjectures that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

What were Rhett and Scarlett Butler suddenly up to at night? They didn’t share a room, and yet, they did in a way because Captain Butler would usually not return to his room until the very early hours of the morning. Why were they partially living together and partially not? Couldn’t they just visit with each other during the day? But were they visiting or sleeping? Why wouldn’t Captain Butler just retire to his room instead of sleeping most of the night in one place and then the early morning in another? Most of the time Pittypat had the sense that Scarlett and Rhett weren’t sleeping, even if they had generally been very quiet.

Her latest speculation, no matter how odd, was that the Butlers were secretly religious. Neither had worn their religion on their sleeve. Scarlett had seemed to easily lose touch with her Catholic faith once she came to Atlanta, and while Captain Butler occasionally brought Wade to the Episcopal Church, he was not a regular parishioner. Perhaps they preferred to practice their religion in private, as some were known to do. The O’Haras had been required to do so in Clayton County, so it made some sense that Scarlett continued this tradition in her own home. However, it seemed odd that they did not engage the children or the servants in this ritual as well.

The evenings were a strange mix of the conservative and the celebratory, with what Pittypat perceived as periods of silent prayer, but then there might be an instant outburst from Scarlett praising God; the name of the Lord definitely passed through the wall with clarity. Though, often, Scarlett or Captain Butler’s names would strangely be thrown into the sacrament. Pittypat wasn’t certain what religion included placing one’s spouse up to the same level as the Lord. It seemed a little un-Christian-like to her. And then there were still the unexplained exclamations that sounded as if an injury had just occurred. Or in this particular ritual, was there such a thing as _shouting in tongues_? After a time, when Captain Butler would finally return to his room, presumably, the prayer session was complete.

Pittypat couldn’t believe how dedicated Scarlett and Rhett were to their Christian faith. Why hadn’t she noticed this side of Scarlett in the first month of her stay? Why did these two not seem to live their daily lives in that tradition? She had always hated to think of them as agnostics, but they had never shown this side of themselves to the outside world. They were most contradictory

And she, Pittypat, was most fatigued. For a little over a week, she had stayed awake–or had been kept from sleep–during her hosts’ religious rendezvous. Her naps following dinner had been a regular activity for Pittypat Hamilton for her entire life; she had always appreciated these afternoon delights. However, because of her evening distractions, the naps had begun to grow longer in duration as the days went on.

She needed an especially long siesta following the night when she noticed that Captain Butler had remained in Scarlett’s bedroom, apparently all night. At his usual time to depart, she’d heard Scarlett call to him, loud enough so Pittypat could decipher the word “stay”, and he never crossed out into the hall. Unfortunately that left Bonnie alone in Captain Butler’s bedroom early that morning. Even before the sun came up, the girl’s voice echoed through the halls and into the rooms.

“Daddy? Daddy?”

Bonnie’s little feet pounded up and down the hall, her fists striking all the closed doors–Pittypat’s the loudest, in her frustrated opinion.

“Daddy? You in there?”

“Oh, dear,” Pittypat grumbled, quickly sitting up to gather her wrapper about her. “Why hadn’t Captain Butler gone back to her? He must have known she’d be frantic at his absence.”

For the first time, Pittypat Hamilton was missing her own house. It was free of children _and_ religious fanatics that stayed up all hours of the night. She stood to creakily toddle to the door when another scream came from the hall.

“Daddy!”

Pittypat thought it might be better to crawl back into bed and bury her head under some of Scarlett’s fine down pillows. Melanie and Charles had been such good children. Pittypat knew how to handle them. But wild, screaming children like Bonnie were a different breed altogether.

As Pittypat peeked out into the hall, at first only opening her door a crack in hopes that the child would not spot her, she caught sight of the barefoot Bonnie running toward Scarlett’s room. Captain Butler was standing outside the door, pulling it closed behind him, his shirt and trousers well-rumpled. And his hair? Captain Butler’s hair was nearly standing on end! That was something no one living outside of this house would ever see, thought Pittypat, again realizing the access that she had gained to these individuals. It turned out that the elegantly groomed Rhett Butler was not always so, on occasion.

“Daddy, you look funny. Where you been?”

“Sorry, Mist’ Rhett,” a yawning Prissy spoke from the door of the nursery after realizing that Bonnie probably had been her responsibility even if the girl hadn’t been sleeping in the nursery, but Captain Butler waved her off and Prissy retreated into the room to return to her mattress.

“I’ve been right here,” he answered, lifting Bonnie up in his arms.

“No, you weren’t. Why you up ‘fore me, Daddy?”

“Is it not allowed?” he teased, giving her a brief tickle, releasing Bonnie’s giggles.

“No,” she answered with a fresh pout and folded her arms across her chest.

“All right, I won’t let it happen again,” her father promised with a kiss. He then turned his attention down the hall. Pittypat was struck by his smile. Had she ever seen Captain Butler look so youthful and refreshed? And undoubtedly after a night of little sleep! He looked younger and happier than he had when she had first met him nearly ten years before. There was no sign of the ever-present cynicism that had always clouded his dark eyes. “My apologies, Miss Pitty. My daughter has a wonderful pair of lungs.”

“And fists,” Pittypat added silently. She nodded stiffly, attempting to appear unbothered before her joyful host, though she was very annoyed at the little girl’s conduct. Apparently her parents were too busy with their religious activities to teach Bonnie Butler some proper Christian manners. I just didn’t make sense.

“Oh, only checking to make certain that everything was all right, Captain Butler. Good night…uh, good morning, I suppose,” Pittypat spoke in a raspy voice before retreating into her bedroom and plopping back down on the bed. She didn’t just need a nap; she needed a full day’s sleep. But before Pittypat was able to return to unconsciousness, she lightly chuckled, recalling Captain Butler’s hair.

“Wouldn’t Dolly like to hear about this!” Pittypat giggled, thinking her best friend would be very diverted by the tale of Captain Butler’s tousled appearance. Pittypat, had seen him this way once before, but when was it? When was it? Oh, yes, it was after Scarlett had mussed his hair that morning a few days ago when they were–

“Oh, my!” Pittypat exclaimed in realization before slapping her palm over her mouth. “Oh, my!” she repeated multiple more times, muffling the words. Suddenly, disheveled hair meant embraces and intimacy and things of a personal nature that Miss Sarah Jane Hamilton knew existed but knew nothing about, would never know anything about. She had been wrong, embarrassingly wrong. But how could she have ever known that what she had heard (or not heard) had been specifically related to one of the fundamental elements of marriage? Religion was something she could understand, but…but this? This was unknown. This was alien. What went on behind closed doors, the unspoken aspects of marriage; this was something no one had shared with her, this was information she never sought out. She only knew that it was something never to be mentioned around her. Only matrons had to bother with this knowledge. And because this information had been withheld from her, she figured that whatever this was must have been rather shameful and unpleasant.

Her face grew hot and colored red as a ruby.

Had Captain Butler been hurting Scarlett all these nights, using her against her will? Had Scarlett been calling for God’s help? That was how Pittypat had always imagined the intimidating Captain Butler would be as a man and as a husband. Had she, Pittypat, been an unintended witness to his cruelty? No. No, how could she think of him that way, now, after living with him? How could he be so tender with his daughter, so attentive to Scarlett, and then become something else when it came to his sordid needs? Though, he was a man and how could she begin to understand the masculine mind? Captain Butler had always taken what he wanted and was never apologetic about it. He must have been demanding his rights as a husband and of course Scarlett couldn’t deny him. Poor dear…

But, no. Strange as it was, Scarlett did not seem so miserable anymore. In fact, she had seemed happier now than she had in months, possibly years. Instead of avoiding her husband during the daylight hours, when she could legitimately find some respite, Scarlett seemed to have been drawn closer to him. Oh, it was all so confusing! Now, not only did Pittypat Hamilton not understand the masculine mind, but the feminine mind was a mystery to her as well. Did Scarlett actually enjoy giving in to Captain Butler’s demands? How could that be?

For all Pittypat believed, everyone in her life had been pure and chaste. To her understanding, women never truly enjoyed their husbands’ advances. Though, she also never heard any of her matron friends truly complain about anything of that nature. Never had she seen an embrace like she had witnessed the other day. Not between her parents. Not between her brother, William, and his wife. Not between Ashley and Melanie. Not between her friends and their husbands. She knew that most of them shared beds, but in her childlike innocence, she had never considered anything but sleep occurring in such places. Though, she did now recall the blushes that Melanie had suffered from when anticipating Ashley’s Christmas furlough in 1863. But had that been embarrassment from apprehension or could it have been eagerness? Had Pittypat been wrong about all of this her entire life? Had her own dear, sweet, innocent niece enjoyed Ashley’s behavior? Heavens!

In Pittypat’s world, the stork–or Dr. Meade–delivered babies to the expecting mother on the day of birth like a courier, no matter that a woman’s stomach grew to such proportions over the previous months. Never had Pittypat wished to give much consideration to how those babies really came. It was more preferable to think that magic brought them rather than base human mechanics.

Pittypat had never wanted to grow up. She had always wanted to remain that child that her doting father had adored. And to learn about such things, such things that she had now surely been exposed to… Well, it was bound to change her. No, she didn’t want to change, and yet, as disturbing as this realization was, it felt as if some puzzle pieces were finally fitting together, at least when it came to this particular husband and wife. Something about them was so fascinating, and now with this information…well, it now made them more intriguing than ever before.

Never had she known two people like Rhett and Scarlett Butler. The attraction that she had always sensed between the two of them was so foreign to her. The looks Captain Butler and Scarlett had shared with one another were truly electric. She had witnessed looks of love between other couples, but what she saw between Scarlett and Captain Butler was something different, almost primeval. It didn’t seem as if they could ever truly relax in that tense atmosphere. Pittypat had never understood how that strain could be eased between the two, but remarkably, it somehow made sense now, no matter that nothing like this would ever completely make sense to Pittypat Hamilton.

It was in those quiet minutes and hours after what she had perceived as religious fervor, when the strain had been eased. But, yet, it seemed to be the same peace that certain people found at church, in prayer, their souls uplifted, their burdens alleviated. She had seen that peace in Rhett Butler’s face this morning; Pittypat was sure of it. Perhaps love for his daughter and intimacy with his wife were Captain Butler’s religion. Perhaps nearness to her husband had become Scarlett’s. She had seemed to be so much more often at peace since Captain Butler’s return. Their focus hadn’t been on God those nights, it had been on each other.

At the sound of Scarlett’s voice coming from the hall, Pittypat grew hot again, thinking of exactly what might have been happening in Scarlett’s bedroom. She couldn’t even begin to imagine, but it was wrong. Wasn’t it wrong? No, she must not think on it anymore. She was a maid, an old one at that, if she was to be honest, and she had no business wondering about any of this. Though, the Butlers had certainly made it her business by exposing her to it at all hours of the night.

Pittypat pulled her coverlet up tighter about her neck and she pressed a soft cheek into the pillow, blocking one of her ears to the outside world. They really did have some nerve exposing her to their personal business! Did they not know that she could hear? She was a maid. They had a duty to protect her from such things as everyone else in her life had had the courtesy to do.

“Uncle Rhett!” Ella’s voice called loudly amidst Bonnie’s giggles.

“Saints preserve us!” Pittypat mumbled into her pillow, borrowing one of Scarlett’s oft-used phrases. Taking up a second pillow, Pittypat placed it over her exposed ear, wishing at this moment for some cotton bolls to shove in her ear canals. Children and marital relations; would they never cease in this home? Pittypat moaned into her pillow, remembering that there was yet another baby on the way.

“And likely at least five more in no time at all at the pace they’re going…” Pitty thought grumpily as she forced her way to sleep.

 

________________________________________

 

“Rhett!” called Scarlett’s voice.

“Oh, not again!” Pittypat thought in astonishment.

It really wasn’t _again_ , but of course Pittypat made only one assumption for Rhett’s presence in Scarlett’s room after her discovery that morning. Even though she had not heard anything but quiet words and then peaceful silence in the room from the start of the night, she was convinced that something had transpired.

Try as she might, Pittypat had not been able to easily find sleep that night. Part of the difficulty might have had to do with the fact that she had slept nearly all day, no matter if she had been in her bed or in her seat at the dining room table. But part of her insomnia that evening could be blamed on her inappropriate curiosity. She should be ashamed for not having placed a pillow over her head that night just as a precaution. But this inquisitiveness was stronger than the shame. Now that she realized what had been happening, she had to know more. Every little sound might be a clue, a piece of the puzzle. She didn’t realize yet that the full, completed picture would never be revealed to her. There was even a chance that the image might become blurrier, but Pittypat would never have the courage to ask anyone to confirm anything for her.

“Where are you going?” Scarlett’s voice cut through again.

Apparently, Pittypat had been mistaken; Scarlett’s voice signaled the start of a conversation and nothing…well…improper (at least Pittypat hoped).

“I didn’t intend to wake you,” Rhett’s apologetic voice came nearly from the direction of the hall.

Pittypat climbed out of bed and silently tiptoed toward her door, cracking it just enough to let the voices drift in. Thank heavens that the hall was dark, though she still didn’t dare take a peek through the gap, and instead concealed her figure behind the door.

“Where are you going?” Scarlett’s puzzled voice asked, her words and muted footsteps now filtering into the hall, too.

Despite the delicious access, Pittypat’s jaw tightened as shame crept into her bones for playing the eavesdropper. Why was it so difficult to ignore Rhett and Scarlett Butler’s affairs? They had been interesting when Pittypat was in her former situation, and now that she lived with them they were doubly fascinating, but she knew she should be allowing them their privacy. And yet, she stayed. Of course, what she had realized this morning would be nothing she could gossip about. Pittypat would shock all her friends if she even hinted about _that_ subject, but this might be fair and decent game.

“I believe yesterday morning I promised our daughter that she could welcome me to a new day as she has done for many months now.”

“But I want to do that, darling,” Scarlett replied, softly flirtatious. Pittypat imagined that Scarlett was somehow touching Captain Butler. She always was such a coquette. “Don’t go.”

“If I don’t, she’ll create more of a clamor than she did yesterday morning. And then tonight at supper Miss Pitty might end up with her face buried in a plate of Brussels sprouts,” Rhett whispered.

Pittypat quietly inhaled, her mouth puckering at Captain Butler’s unkind joke about her struggles with consciousness the previous day. Her unfortunate fatigue had been nothing but his own fault, the rascal.

“Oh, I don’t care. Stay.”

“Scarlett–”

“I hate to wake up alone,” Scarlett complained, her voice signaling a pout on her lips.

“You’re welcome to join me in my bed, granted you can keep your hands to yourself,” Rhett teased, bringing Pittypat pause.

Was it true? Had Scarlett been the one in pursuit? Had she, and not Captain Butler, been instigating their evening encounters? It seemed unlikely. Surely he was jesting, and surely Scarlett’s face had now gone beet red like Pittypat’s had.

“You know I can’t sleep unless it’s pitch black,” Scarlett replied with a perturbed tone, her voice completely absent of her husband’s playfulness.

Oh, Pittypat knew that tone. It was the same one that Scarlett had assigned to her and Frank Kennedy five years ago when the three of them lived together. Apparently not all of Scarlett’s irritability had subsided in this pregnancy. If Captain Butler hadn’t been who he was, Pittypat would have felt a little more sympathy for him being on the receiving end of this potential outburst.

“You’ve pampered her long enough. She should be in the nursery.”

“I’m not going to wake her just to bring her to the nursery in the middle of the night,” Rhett said, a slight incredulity in his voice.

“Fine. That’s your decision? You’re choosing her over me?”

Oh, dear. Was Captain Butler going to answer correctly? Frank had never been successful at it when Scarlett was right on the edge. No matter what Frank had said, Scarlett was always sent over the cliff.

Scarlett could be very unreasonable and irrational at these times, Pitty remembered. Pregnancy must destabilize many women’s minds. Scarlett’s entire being had been draped in love and affection only moments ago and now her voice radiated hostility.

“Is that jealousy I’m hearing?”

“Don’t!” Scarlett snapped.

It sounded as if Scarlett had tried to push Captain Butler away, but instead she lightly stumbled back against her doorframe.

“I’m not choosing anyone–”

“Yes, you are. You’re leaving me to go to her.”

“Daddy!” called Bonnie from Rhett’s bedroom.

Scarlett sighed.

“Scarlett,” Rhett said, his voice raised as if Scarlett had turned away from him. Pittypat heard the slip of fabric against fabric and then silence. Then, Captain Butler’s spoke again, his voice muffled as if buried in Scarlett’s hair. “She’s our daughter. I’m afraid you’re going to have to learn to compromise–”

“I’m tired of compromising. I don’t want you for only part of the time. I’m your wife. I shouldn’t have to share you.”

“I believe you’re forgetting that we have a family, one that is growing even as we speak, but if anyone has all of me it’s–”

“Oh, I wish we didn’t,” Scarlett interrupted. “The children– Bonnie. She takes you away from me.”

“Daddy!” Bonnie spoke from the doorway staring in the direction of her parents. “Why you out here?”

“Speaking with your mother,” Rhett answered calmly, his voice moving away from Scarlett’s door.

“Why?”

“Bonnie, why don’t you go back to your bed,” Scarlett requested. “Father and I are speaking.”

“No,” Bonnie rebelled. “Daddy, come.” Her voice struggled as if she were trying to drag her father in the direction of his bedroom.

“Scarlett…” Rhett’s voice began apologetically, coming from the threshold of his bedroom door. He had clearly decided to go with Bonnie to settle her down.

“Rhett, if you go–” Scarlett said as if beginning a warning. “Fine,” she conceded as if Rhett was now beyond her reach, “go with her. But don’t expect to come back to me. My door will be locked.”

After Scarett’s door closed, Pittypat, too, retreated to the interior of her room, feeling strangely sad. No, this wasn’t something she was willing to gossip on either. It was too distressing, too personal. Was Scarlett truly jealous of Bonnie? How could she be jealous of her own child? Though, it was true that Bonnie did draw Captain Butler away from Scarlett’s side every night and he did spend an awful lot of time with the girl. Pittypat recalled noticing Scarlett’s stares over several evenings recently, looking longingly toward her husband as he read to their daughters with Bonnie sitting contentedly in his lap and Ella snuggled under his arm. Many other fathers had done the same, but Scarlett had exposed her difficulty with this scenario.

In a way, it did make some sense to Pittypat. That was how Scarlett had always been. She had never ceased seeking attention, even after losing dear Charlie. Oh, of course she remained loyal to him, but she still craved a reaction from the opposite sex, even if she did not act on it. In mourning, she would hang out of her bedroom window and wave to the soldiers she had nursed, expecting their full interest. It never seemed enough for her to just be admired. A man not only had to admire her, but that man had to forsake all others or Scarlett would get mighty angry at said man _and_ the woman or activity distracting him from her. When Scarlett really wanted someone to love her, she wanted that person to _only_ love her–or at least love her the best. That had become much clearer to Pittypat in the last month because she had witnessed Scarlett’s interaction with a person whose love Scarlett deeply wanted. It was obvious that she already had Captain Butler’s love, but right now, in her state, it wasn’t quite enough.

Pittypat had now realized why Captain Butler had been splitting his night hours between Scarlett’s bedroom and his own. She had lived here long enough to catch several mentions of Bonnie’s night lamp. The brave little girl that seemed so fierce in everyday life had been afraid of the dark. Every night since Captain Butler’s return, he alone had prepared Bonnie for bed and had sat with her until Bonnie fell to sleep. It was only then that he came to Scarlett. And granted that Bonnie stayed asleep for enough hours, he would be back before the girl woke. It was now clear that Scarlett was not happy with this situation. Unfortunately, this would always be a problem; Captain Butler would never be able to stop loving his daughter or the new baby on the way. It was Scarlett that would need to change, or as Captain Butler had said, compromise. Pittypat only hoped that the young woman would be up to the challenge or there would be many unhappy days ahead.

As Pittypat returned to her bed her ears picked up one last sound this night. From Scarlett’s room, she heard quiet sobs. Poor dear. Captain Butler hadn’t truly abandoned her, but Pittypat could understand how it might seem that way to Scarlett right now. Pittypat had always been her father’s favorite, but if he had decided to turn a greater proportion of his attentions to William or Henry instead, she could understand how Scarlett might be feeling now. It would have been upsetting to lose the warmth of that love, even temporarily. And now because of that, Scarlett laid alone in her bed weeping.

But it wasn’t long before Scarlett’s tears turned to resentment. Thankfully, Scarlett did not seem to take her anger out on Bonnie, and somehow was able to be as sweet with her as ever. But, for Captain Butler, Scarlett presented him the cold shoulder. And as for Pittypat, Scarlett found every opportunity possible to snap at her. Why was it that she was always caught up in the turmoil between Scarlett and her husband, no matter which one it had been? Pittypat wondered how any of this had been her fault!

Captain Butler made various subtle attempts to wedge himself back in Scarlett’s favor, but he was rather skilled at ignoring her sulks and even bravely laughed at Scarlett’s childish behavior as if more amused than distressed, unlike Frank Kennedy, and it seemed as if this impasse was little bother to him. He remained as attentive as ever to Scarlett’s needs. While she accepted his assistance, she offered a very sharp edge of ingratitude in return, even if Pittypat could tell that Scarlett truly was grateful. She thought that Captain Butler must see through his wife as well. Pitty knew they loved one another; surely they would get past this little row. Though, as Frank would often complain to her: “She stays mad longer than any woman I ever saw.” He was right and that hadn’t changed. Scarlett knew how to sustain her ire.

Pittypat didn’t know what was more intolerable: Scarlett and Captain Butler’s happiness or their misery. Either way, Pittypat had been forced to endure both during her stay here. Would they always exist in such extremes? Could she, Pittypat, exist as a bystander to it in the years to come? No, surely her nerves couldn’t bear the pressure forever. Why couldn’t the pair–well, more so Scarlett–find some balance? Pittypat feared what it might be like when the tide shifted again. She certainly wouldn’t be getting any sleep. At least this current conflict had allowed her to catch up on her rest.

Perhaps she could request a change of rooms preemptively? With some distance, maybe she would not need to be witness to these marital conflicts and reunions. Though, she had to admit that she had the most comfortable of all the guest rooms. It overlooked the yard and all the exquisite flowerbeds. There was usually such a nice breeze floating into her room, bringing with it the sweet scents of the roses, much like she’d had in her own bedroom at home. Home… The longer she was away from it, the more she missed it.

The Butler home was grand, indeed. For a time, Pittypat found it necessary to pinch herself when waking in the massive bedroom or walking down the sprawling hallway. It was as if she were residing in the most majestic of hotels. But just as the thrill of a holiday away begins to lose its luster if one is gone from one’s house for too long, now too, had Pittypat begun to yearn for the comforts of the home she had resided in for too many years to count. She missed the comparatively snug quarters that seemed to suit her own physical dimensions better. She missed her comfortable, secure chairs. While Scarlett’s were lovely, Pittypat wondered if they had been purchased more for show than for comfort. The upholstery seemed to have a personality of its own and if you weren’t alert, it might decide to pitch you from the chair. They really were quite treacherous. And Pittypat missed the quiet. In the last three years of sharing space with the reticent India Wilkes, Pittypat hadn’t had to bother with anyone’s lively voice if she didn’t wish for the experience. It had been lovely to reside with a family again, but she realized that Melly and her own friends had truly been her family, and since she had been a guest in Scarlett’s house, she had felt uncomfortable inviting her friends to call at her new residence, for it really wasn’t _her_ residence at all.

Surprisingly, there had actually been decisions that she had missed making. It nearly shocked her to realize that options had been presented to her throughout her adult life. Granted they were very minor decisions such as what she wanted to eat for supper or what sort of crochet design she would like for her sofa’s antimacassars, but these were things she had control over. More shocking still was the fact that she missed having some of those choices in her life. It would have been nice to be able to request her favorite baked chicken someday, but this home’s kitchen and everything else on this piece of property were in Scarlett’s jurisdiction; she was queen of this castle. Cookie’s meals might not have been so elaborate as Scarlett’s cook’s, but they had satisfied Pittypat just fine.

She also missed Uncle Peter’s regular guardianship; he had always looked out for her well-being. Who was really looking out for her now? Yes, she felt safer here in this home than she had anywhere else; it was like living in an impregnable fortress. But did anyone here actually have her best interest at heart? Scarlett snipped at her. Captain Butler expertly mocked her with so much skill that she still wasn’t sure if he was attempting to be unkind or just fondly teasing her. In any case, if her hosts had truly cared about her, they would have been much more polite and conscientious regarding their former evening activities just one bedroom over. No, Uncle Peter would be having none of that for his young Miss Pitty. Pittypat giggled, thinking of how he might lecture Scarlett and Captain Butler for disturbing her in both peacetime and war. Oh, Uncle Peter would struggle with the peacetime subject matter, but he would still make sure he had been understood. Yes, Pittypat missed the loyalty of her servants; they knew her so well.

And just as Uncle Peter and Cookie had known Pittypat, Captain Butler knew Scarlett. Like Frank Kennedy, he had obviously learned that letting Scarlett have her way was the simplest path to domestic peace. Though, unlike Frank, Pittypat was sure that Captain Butler didn’t always let Scarlett have her way. But at this impasse, it appeared that he was willing to concede some ground. Frank would have made it clear to Scarlett that he had accepted her demands, but Captain Butler went about it differently. He didn’t camp outside her door; he left her alone as if their separation was no hardship on him. He had more patience than Pittypat ever imagined a man like Captain Butler would have. There was no groveling. There were no apologies or explanations, only action.

It appeared that Captain Butler had somehow convinced a contrary Bonnie to return to the nursery and share the room with her two siblings once again. Pittypat wasn’t sure what the doting father had promised the two-year old, but it must have been significant for her to agree. It had become clear that this was the plan when Pittypat noticed Pork and Captain Butler moving Bonnie’s bed back down the hall to the nursery. And that same evening, Mammy, who had been sleeping in the servants’ house since Pittypat had taken up residence here, was restored to an overnight position in the nursery to assist Prissy with the duties.

It was evident that Bonnie was reluctant and uncertain with this new situation. It was never wise to give something to a child and then try to take it away again. The process was slow. Pittypat’s sleep was regularly disrupted by Bonnie’s unchecked voice as Mammy led her down the hall to Captain Butler’s room, Bonnie insisting that she see her father if she woke from her slumber. But, instead of letting Bonnie join him in his room, her tired father walked her back to the nursery and presumably stayed with her until she drifted off again. As the nights passed, Bonnie’s nightly interruptions reduced in frequency.

Over this time, Pittypat witnessed Scarlett’s anger subsiding. She thought Scarlett must have realized the effort that Captain Butler was making for her. For weeks, Scarlett had forced her eyes to look at anyone or anything besides her husband, but recently she had been taking short, curious, hopeful peeks that extended with the passing days…though always with the ever present pout on her lips.

And on a Saturday evening after a week of no sleep interruptions from the little girl down the hall, Captain Butler knocked on Scarlett’s door.

Pittypat waited in anticipation. Would Scarlett refuse to acknowledge him? Would she greet him and then turn him away? Or would she…well, Pittypat wasn’t sure if she, herself, was yet ready for a third option.

The door opened. The door closed. And Captain Butler’s deep voice cut through the wall, not from the hall, but from Scarlett’s bedroom.

“I can’t believe it!” thought Pittypat. Not only had that been her least favorite option, but she was certain that it hadn’t ranked very high for Scarlett yet either. “Though she has always snapped from one emotion to another when she finally gets her way,” she reasoned, remembering the range of personalities that Scarlett had displayed the last time the two of them resided under the same roof. “Apparently, Captain Butler’s been forgiven…not that he had really done anything very wrong,” Pittypat decided, chastising Scarlett’s irrational anger from the safety of her own room.

Scarlett and her companion quickly began speaking muted, erratic words that did not make for very fluid sentences. Pittypat feared that the pendulum had shifted again from hate to love.

As Pittypat lie in her bed, an involuntary witness, she didn’t know whether to roll to her left or her right side. If she rolled to her left, her ears might feed her improper curiosity. If she rolled to her right, she could block out the offensive sounds. She was caught between captivation and repulsion. Right now, her parents were probably looking down on her in shame. She had always been a most virtuous girl. She had promised herself that she would remain that way her entire life. She had made it successfully these seventy years and Pittypat didn’t wish for anything to change now.

Oh, where were her smelling salts? No, she shouldn’t dare retrieve them. It would be a blessing to swoon right here and now. She was already safe in bed, so no injury would come to her. Pittypat squeezed her eyelids shut and pressed her arms forcefully into the mattress as if she could force herself to faint; it only seemed to strengthen her senses. At the sound of a moan, Pittypat’s hands flew up to cover her ears. With her ear canals forcefully plugged, Scarlett’s voice was replaced by a low rumbling that sounded like a distant buffalo stampede; Pittypat would rather be caught in one of those right now.

When Scarlett should have been vocalizing a ‘no’ during these moments and demanding her husband’s swift exit as a proper woman would, one of the clearest words to cut through the wall was ‘yes’ (though, who would be brave enough to tell Captain Butler ‘no’? Not even Scarlett was that fearless.). It was always _yes_ , never _no_. Was this a sign that Scarlett wanted her husband as all men wanted women? It must be true, but the concept still astounded Pittypat. The young, innocent widow of Charles Hamilton who had come to live in Atlanta nine years ago must have been put under a spell during her most recent marriage–though it must not have been all that challenging for Captain Butler. She had never known two people like Rhett and Scarlett before. Not everyone was like them. Most people were _not_ like them. This immoral conduct was only something these two would perform with equal passion. And a performance it was, for they certainly didn’t mind an audience!

“I have to leave,” Pittypat determined instantly. “I have to leave. I can’t stay and be exposed to this anymore. It’s wrong and it’s corrupting me just as Captain Butler has surely corrupted Scarlett.”

Pittypat rolled to her right side, burrowing one ear into the pillow and burying the other under a bunched up bed sheet. Oh, and they were such elegant pillows and bed sheets… No! No, she would not be swayed by the comforts of this home. She was leaving and that was that.

 

                         ____________________________________                                                      

 

The next afternoon–for that was when Scarlett finally emerged from her bedroom–Pittypat caught her in the upper hall and privately informed her about her wish to return to her own home on Peachtree Street. Without patiently waiting for a reaction from the speechless young woman before her, Pittypat explained to her host that she had missed her own house and servants. No matter how comfortable Scarlett had made it for her, this would never truly be home. It would be easy to collect Uncle Peter and Cookie from Melly’s and open up her house again in no time at all. And, no, she wasn’t very afraid of living alone anymore–the biggest lie Pittypat had ever told–but she might just chance upon someone that would like to become her companion. And besides, Melly and Ashley were right out her back door. She could send for them at a moment’s notice. (Pittypat prayed that that would be enough to save her if she was put in harm’s way.)

Pittypat rambled on about how grateful she had been to Scarlett for welcoming her in to this home. If she could live in both places at once, she would. This really was the finest home she would ever see, but, “it’s just too large for little old me.” She truly was going to miss Wade and made Scarlett promise that she would allow him to spend as much time with Melly and Beau as he wanted. Pittypat was sure to have fine visits with him at the Wilkes’. “And he can come to his dear Aunt Pitty’s anytime he wants.”

After Scarlett finally responded with a wary nod, her words still lost to her, Pittypat made her way to the staircase to descend to the dining room for dinner. Scarlett followed her down like a sleepwalker.

“Poor dear,” thought Pittypat, mistaking Scarlett’s elated, though disbelieving silence for disappointment. “She’s missing me already. And to leave her now, when she might need me– No. Captain Butler’s here for her now.”

At the thought of Rhett Butler, Pittypat nearly missed a step in her descent, remembering what other sorts of ways he was _assisting_ Scarlett. And at the sound of Bonnie’s shout from the dining room, Pittypat’s foot nearly slipped off another step.

Yes, she had made the right decision. Thank the dear Lord that she would be able to again construct and experience a peaceful life. She would get word to Uncle Peter and Cookie this very day. If they worked quickly, she might be able to lay her head down on her own pillow by tomorrow evening. “Well…I wonder if Scarlett would miss a pillow or two?” Pittypat considered; gauging how much room she might have in her luggage. “Oh, look at me!” she thought. “Yes, I have been corrupted. Now I’m considering thievery! It serves me right, wishing to live in the home of a reprobate. I knew it would come to no good,” Pittypat concluded, rewriting her own history.

With relief in his eyes, Uncle Peter collected his mistress the next morning after breakfast. His Miss Pitty never belonged in this home in the first place. He still heartily disapproved of Rhett Butler, and he hadn’t thought much of Miss Scarlett in the last six or seven years, either. He had tried and tried to convince Pittypat to stay in her home or move in with Miss Melly, but she stubbornly had not listened. Well, surely she had learned her lesson now.

The Butlers collectively gathered on the front porch to send Pittypat off, Rhett and Scarlett expressing their deepest sadness at her departure. The children were rather distracted, but each wished her a goodbye, as they had been instructed to do. But once that duty had been completed, both Ella and Bonnie broke off in opposite directions before each parent pulled one of them to their side, and Wade shyly took interest in his shoes.

Scarlett, with tears of relieved happiness in her eyes, hugged Pittypat a second time. A miracle was just now taking place, and Scarlett hadn’t had to put any effort into making it happen.

It was strange that Scarlett did not beg her to stay when she seemed so hurt by her departure, thought Pitty.

“I’ll just be up the road,” Pittypat reassured, tears now streaming down her own cheeks once experiencing Scarlett’s emotions. The poor young woman didn’t want to see her go, but she was just too proud to ask her to remain.

Pittypat turned to descend the front steps and was proceeding down the front walk bathed in the October sun when Scarlett called, “Wait!”

Now, it was to come, Pittypat thought with a smile. Now, Scarlett would beg her to stay and Pitty would need to turn her down as kindly as possible. How nice it was to be loved by her adoptive family.

“Wait,” Scarlett repeated. “Don’t forget these,” she said, sending Pork down the steps with two of the plumpest pillows the world had ever seen.

“Oh,” voiced Pittypat, annoyed that she had forgotten to send her parting gifts along with her luggage earlier. Her shoulders dropped briefly, realizing that Scarlett was not planning on begging her to stay, but when Pork held out the down-filled pillows to her, Pittypat forgot everything else and hugged the massive items to her body. Like a child, the gift distracted her and she could think of nothing else but getting home and placing them on her bed. HER bed! Home. Sleep. Decency.

She turned on the walk without another word to the Butlers and made her way to Uncle Peter and her carriage. No, there was no place like home.

 

________________________________________

                                                         

 

“I truly appreciate your enthusiasm for my–er–skills, but perhaps you might try to lower your voice just a little next time,” Rhett lightly suggested, untangling himself from Scarlett’s grip and rolling onto his side.

Scarlett rolled with him, draping her arm over his waist and sighing into his neck. He wasn’t going to get away from her that easily.

“Hmm?” she mumbled into his pillow.

“If my ears are ringing, I can’t imagine that someone across the hall in the nursery isn’t hearing you, too.”

“Hmm?” Scarlett hummed, still not fully in the present.

“Besides, Miss Pitty is gone now. You don’t need to put on such displays anymore. Your mission has been accomplished.”

“My what?” Scarlett asked, finally opening her eyes, exploring Rhett’s words.

“I believe you said you’d take it upon yourself to find a way to remove Miss Pitty from this house. I must say, I’m impressed with your ingenuity,” Rhett teased.

“My what?” Scarlett asked.

“You found a very creative way of unsettling Miss Pitty…right out of this house.”

“What did I do?” Scarlett asked curiously. She was now fully alert.

“Expressed your pleasure – most unashamedly.” Rhett’s words sounded as if he’d had a most proud smile on his lips.

“I don’t understand what you–” Scarlett then popped up from her position, her elbow supporting her upper body, staring into the lightless room toward the wall shared with Pittypat’s guestroom. “She heard?” Scarlett whispered to herself. “She heard? Oh, God, she heard!” Scarlett’s body immediately plopped down and she yanked the bedding up above her shoulders, turning her back to Rhett and curling her petite body into a ball. “Oh, God!” she groaned in distress.

“Yes, she heard plenty of _those_ as I recall,” Rhett responded.

Scarlett moaned into her pillow.

“An plenty of _that_ , too,” he teased, wrapping his arm around her.

“Will you stop it!” Scarlett grumbled, swatting his hand away.

“Now, if you would have expressed something more like that to me, Miss Pitty would still be sleeping in the room next to yours at this very moment.”

“This isn’t funny; it’s horrifying!” Scarlett exclaimed before rolling to face Rhett again. “I never even thought about– She thinks we’re indecent–and maybe we are. If you think I planned any of this– Stop laughing!”

“Smooth your ruffled feathers, my dear,” said Rhett, his hand concealing Scarlett’s shoulder before running it along her downy arm. He kissed her forehead and Scarlett’s muscles relaxed slightly. “I’m afraid neither of us were cunning enough to have this in our plans. Perhaps, in time, we might have–”

“You didn’t know that she could hear, either?” There was surprise and relief in Scarlett’s voice, as if glad that neither she nor Rhett were to blame. At least it seemed that he hadn’t purposely placed her in this humiliating position.

“I must admit, Miss Pitty was the last thing on my mind after receiving your warm welcome. No one else in the world existed at the time, especially not our delightful houseguest sleeping right next door. Though, in time–”

“You realized it before she left?”

“Only after she became more skittish than normal around me about a month ago. It must have taken her quite a while to determine what was happening behind your door–Miss Pitty, being the child that she is. She might still not understand, only concluding that I was ravishing you in some manner. You might have noticed that she had difficulty looking either of us in the eye.”

Scarlett sucked in her breath. Pittypat’s eyes had dashed left and right, up and down, but never could quite focus on her hosts since late August.

“Oh,” Scarlett moaned, pressing the top of her head against Rhett’s shoulder. “And here I thought she was only frightened to tell me that she didn’t like my house–though I don’t see how anyone would not like it.”

Rhett chuckled. Scarlett ignored him.

“But then she told me she was leaving and I thought it must be true and she didn’t like living here. But it was because of us and what we– Oh! She’ll never be able to look me in the eye again. I’ll never be able to face her. It’s too dreadful. We cannot see each other ever again!”

“And this is a tragedy?” Rhett quipped, combing his fingers through Scarlett’s silky locks.

“Oh, Rhett, you know that I– We’ll always be stuck with Aunt Pitty in some way. If only I hadn’t married her nephew,” Scarlett lamented for the thousandth time. “Well, that’s it. I’ll never make another sound as long as I live. No one shall hear anything like… _that_ …from me again. Never,” Scarlett declared, rolling onto her back.

“Now, let’s not make such hasty statements. Let’s not go back to those days,” Rhett protested, his head now hovering above Scarlett’s. “I’ve had enough silence from you for a lifetime.”

“But you just told me I should be quiet.”

“Did I?” Rhett asked, as if forgetting his earlier request.

“You know you did–and I thank you for it,” Scarlett said without a playful note in her voice. “If you hadn’t warned me, I would never be able to show my face to anyone in this house–”

“Anyone but me,” Rhett amended for her, bringing his hand to her cheek. “I shouldn’t object to having you all to myself,” he whispered before providing Scarlett with a gentle kiss. “Save it only for me,” he instructed with a whisper, instinctively looking into the eyes of his wife, eyes that hardly could be seen in the darkness of the room. “Only for my ears.”

After deciphering his meaning, Scarlett nodded, signaling her understanding through his touch. Rhett kissed her again before lowering his head, resting it against his pillow and Scarlett’s shoulder. She snaked her arms around him.

“I’ll try, but sometimes I think– I couldn’t– I don’t know if I can help it sometimes,” Scarlett shyly admitted. Dragging her fingertips softly through his hair, her fingernails lightly grazing his scalp, she added, “And I don’t think you always can, either.”

Rhett’s body shook under her arms. “No, my pet,” his voice laughed. “Yours wasn’t the only exultant voice that Miss Pitty heard during the evenings of her abridged visit. You, Mrs. Butler, tend to make me lose my bearings.”

Passing over her husband’s praise, Scarlett drew her head back slightly as another realization blossomed. “Oh, Rhett, what is she going to tell everyone? Mrs. Merriwether? Mrs. Whiting? Mrs. Elsing? Mrs. Meade? Oh, you know how Auntie likes to talk! I’ll never be able to face anyone in this town again after she tells them what she heard. What is she going to tell them about us now that she–?”

Rhett pulled Scarlett tighter to him, feeling the heat radiating from her cheek against his forehead, a sure sign of its crimson color and her embarrassment.

“I know what she’ll say,” Rhett whispered with soothing confidence.

“What?” Scarlett spoke to the ceiling.

 

 ________________________________________

                                                          

“You’re wrong, Dolly!” spoke Pittypat as if she was defending her own self. “Scarlett and Captain Butler love each other very much. Why I’ve never heard–I mean– _seen_ such affection between two people.”

All her friends still had such an opinion on the Butlers: the marriage was a sham, they only married to scandalize all of Atlanta, they were more partners in crime than partners in marriage. But Pitty knew better now, much better than even she cared to; what had been learned could not be unlearned and she now understood their world a little better than most others in this town. She would never completely understand every aspect of that relationship, but she could not deny their need for one another. If that was their version or expression of love, so be it, for it was stronger than anything else she had ever witnessed.

“Bah!”

“Dolly, I’ve lived with them, together, for over two months. Do you think I don’t know what I’ve seen? Captain Butler has been so attentive and gentle with Scarlett, she being in her condition. I’ve never seen so much devotion! He really can be the kindest man when in the role of the expectant father–and he _is_ the expectant father; I’m absolutely certain of it. Such awful things were being said about Ashley and, well, there’s no use saying another word about it. Scarlett was so happy to have Captain Butler back from Charleston. They really ought not ever be apart, I think. It’s clear to me that Scarlett is rather miserable without him and Captain Butler would do almost anything for her, he cares for her so.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re back home where you belong,” said Mrs. Merriwether, changing the subject away from the supposed lovebirds–Pittypat was always so easily fooled.

Pittypat smiled at her dear friend, thankful to be having this conversation in her very own parlor. This was home. This was her friend. This was her world. Rhett and Scarlett Butler might like to live in extremes with nearly religious fervor, but that was never Sarah Jane Hamilton. All she had ever wanted was simple, innocent, quiet comfort and the faithful love and support of her friends, family, and servants. She now had access to all of that again away from that fortress on the hill. Dolly was right; this is where she belonged.

“Oh, as am I, Dolly. As am I. It’s so good to be home. Now, have I told you about my new pillows…?”

 

 

                                                              


End file.
